


All That’s Mine

by Viridian5



Category: Andromeda (TV)
Genre: Drama, Episode Related, M/M, Post-Series, Reunions, Sarcasm, The Universe Hates Harper, Worldbuilding, tying up loose ends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-05
Updated: 2016-10-05
Packaged: 2018-08-19 16:25:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8216912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viridian5/pseuds/Viridian5
Summary: So a dead Nietzschean walks into a bar....





	

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for “Bunker Hill,” “Shadows Cast by a Final Salute,” “Soon the Nearing Vortex,” “The World Turns All Around Her,” and “The Heart of the Journey Part 2”; a few references to “Immaculate Perception,” “Abridging the Devil’s Divide,” and “Phear Phactor Phenom.”

Harper sat at the end of the bar, far from anyone else, nursing a glass of scotch, the hood of his jacket pulled up over his hair and shadowing the top half of his face, trying to be incognito, something a lot of people in this bar wanted. He had a lot to drink about these days. Everyone who’d been on Earth was still dead, and the Abyss wouldn’t have even ordered it done if Harper hadn’t brought enslaved Earth’s plight to Dylan’s attention years ago. It looked like the Drago-Kazov Pride wouldn’t face much punishment for murdering all of Earth’s people and helping the Abyss, nor the Mandau and Sabra-Jaguar Prides for joining the Dragans and the Abyss later. The Commonwealth wanted to make peace with them and get them as allies, as if various Prides hadn’t already turned on them multiple times! Surprise, Harper found it hard to be diplomatic with the people who’d murdered his entire planet plus their associates. Dylan could do it because he hadn’t lost anything he cared about. Harper just wanted the Dragans dead, and he’d be fine with fast deaths for every one of them but slow, painful deaths as they realized why they had to die would be so much better.

Actually, since Sabra-Jaguar Pride had also been part of the clusterfuck that prevented Dylan and the Andromeda Ascendant from providing the necessary military support to the rebellion on Earth he’d started, leading to the slaughter of millions of rebels, they should also die horribly. Harper had to keep track of these things, since no one else seemed to care.

Was he bitter? Oh, slightly.

Harper couldn’t go out in public openly these days, partly from his notoriety from his homeworld’s destruction and being so close when it happened but also because instead of getting “We’re thankful you helped saved all of us from the Abyss, so here’s a beer on us” he’d recently faced two “We’ve heard you’re an engineering genius and have an encyclopedic knowledge of Glorious Heritage-class warships in general and the Commonwealth’s flagship in particular, so we’re here to kidnap you.” Constantine Stark had only been the first and most successful ages ago. Where once Harper had been glad for any media attention he could get for his brilliance, these days he tried to keep his face out of the news and just gave out sound-bites when asked, unless people asked stupid, obnoxious questions about Earth, which he refused to answer anymore. 

A lot of people asked him stupid, obnoxious questions about Earth. People _sucked_. 

But he refused to become a total recluse or only go out with company, especially company that got kinda pissy that he wanted to get off the ship sometimes. He got too stir crazy.

Speaking of company, Harper didn’t know how much longer he could stay with his crew, no matter how much he enjoyed working on the Andromeda Ascendant or how tight he used to be with Beka. Everybody had been kinder and less bitchy since leaving the Seefra system--he had a theory that the physical instability of the system itself affected the mental stability of everyone living in it; Harper certainly thought clearer after they left it--but they still weren’t as close or friendly as they used to be. They all thought he should just get over Earth already, that he’d been moping too long for someone who hadn’t been on Earth in years and didn’t have anyone he loved still alive on it. (Brendan had been the last. Thanks, Dylan.) Also, Rommie’s biting sarcasm toward him bit too deeply lately and Doyle had completely shifted her loyalties away from him. It hurt too much for him to stick around. 

Not that Harper knew where else he could go, especially with his current notoriety. 

Someone sat next to him, too close. When Harper turned his head to tell the guy to buzz off, he saw that the guy was Tyr, who was supposed to be dead. Tyr looked good, as usual, and wore something ridiculous, also as usual. He had his hair longer and in dreads again, as Harper preferred it. Damn it, he had a preference. They’d been kind of friends and occasional fuck buddies, but.... Harper told himself that a lot of people found Tyr hot, so he should give himself a break.

“Harper,” Tyr said, nearly purred. So much for being incognito. “You don’t seem surprised to see me alive.”

Harper turned a little and pushed his hood back a bit to see Tyr better, since Tyr liked to give people nasty surprises. “We never found a body and I’m genre savvy, so no, I’m not surprised.”

“You shot me in the back.”

“I was one of three people who did. You metaphorically stabbed us in the back several times, so it’s fair. Besides, even on the days when I’m not happy with her, I’d never let anyone feed Beka to the ultimate embodiment of all evil. It’s not buddies.”

“It wasn’t personal.”

“Of course not. That doesn’t mean it’s forgivable.”

“You look older and unwell.”

“You can’t even see much of me! Hood and bulky clothes!”

“I see much better than you do.”

“Sure, sure. I’m almost three years older than I should be. I’m not gonna tell you why, because it’s a long, bad story I don’t wanna get into.”

“Then let’s go somewhere more private.”

“Sure, let me follow you somewhere no one can see or find us. It’s not like you’ve ever done anything sketchy or betrayed me before. Here’s fine. Everyone here is professionally blind and deaf, which is why I come here. We’ll just speak quietly. Since you’re you, it’s safe for me to assume that you didn’t find me just to say hi. You haven’t tried to kill me yet....”

“Nor will I. I’m not seeking vengeance for getting shot in the back. It obviously didn’t do much.”

“You’re not going to be able to bring the Abyss back, and even if you could I wouldn’t help you.”

“Nor am I interested in that. The Magog Worldship is no longer a concern, and the Abyss turned out to be neither as powerful nor as invulnerable as it once appeared.”

“I’m not onboard for your United Nietzschean Prides.”

“Dylan’s Commonwealth was flawed and weak even before the damage recently done to it, and even he doesn’t bother listening to it when it goes against something he wants to do. I can do better.”

“Your United Prides will be better, safer? Really? You Ubers are usually much worse in groups. Also, unless you’ve been living under a rock, you know that the Dragans destroyed Earth and everyone living on her, so I’m even less well disposed to Nietzscheans lately.”

“The Dragans are vermin, sub-Nietzschean. I destroyed their homeworld--”

“But didn’t do anything about the Dragans on Earth or elsewhere, and look what happened,” Harper had to add.

Tyr continued on as if Harper hadn’t said anything because of course. “--and I’d like to further my own vengeance on them for what they did to my Pride. My United Prides has no room in it for them and my son deserves better than degenerates like them. You know that I’m willing and glad to kill Prides that are too stupid or corrupted to live.” 

“Yeah, that’s one of my favorite things about you. But I know you’re not just making small talk, so are you trying to make some kind of deal with me?”

“The Commonwealth won’t ever let you get justice on the people who murdered Earth, while I have no problem with it and might help.”

“Are you trying to _recruit_ me? I’m a kludge. None of the people following you would be onboard for treating me like a person, let alone someone of value.”

“You have valuable skills and knowledge that would be very useful. Anyone who doesn’t understand that isn’t smart enough to be close to me.”

“So, what, you offer to get me a chance to kill the Ubers I want dead--and that is a _lot_ of Ubers, Mr. United Nietzschean Prides--in exchange for me betraying Andromeda and everyone on her? I don’t go that cheaply.”

“I know.” Tyr put his hand on Harper’s shoulder, a gesture that managed to seem companionable, comforting, and somehow possessive. His fingers brushed a bare spot of Harper’s neck, making him shiver. 

Almost no one touched him these days except to hurt or control him.... Every good thing he once had in his life had turned ugly again.

Harper twitched that hand away from him. “Glad to hear it, but keep your hands to yourself. I’m not drunk enough for the swoony ‘I love you, man’ stuff and I’m still pissed off at you for all the betrayals.”

Actually, he did feel a little swoony now, kind of happy and sleepy and a bit dizzy. His eyelids felt so heavy....

Damn it, Tyr! How had-- that touch on his neck. “Motherfucker,” Harper managed to whine as everything around him went dark. 

The last thing he heard before unconsciousness swallowed him completely was Tyr’s mellow reply of “That is something I’ve never done.”

  


* * *

Tyr grabbed Harper’s jacket sleeve and pulled him close, letting him lean unconscious against his arm, then signaled the bartender over. “He’s had enough. I’ll settle his bill.”

She smiled. “It looks that way. Sure.”

Deciding on a dosage had been difficult, having to take into account Harper’s body mass and level of caffeination and intoxication. If he’d gotten it right, Harper should have a restful sleep and wake up feeling refreshed, without grogginess, a hangover, or an overly dry mouth. Tyr had decided to approach him before he got too deeply into his cups, since he wanted to sound out the engineer’s state of mind and knew that sometimes Harper could be a belligerent, vicious, and _loud_ drunk. 

Pushing Harper’s hood back more, Tyr could see that Harper looked thinner, and more haggard than grief alone should have left him, with shadows of sleeplessness under his eyes, his cheekbones appearing more prominent, and his skin not quite a healthy color. He might be doing Harper even more of a favor than he’d originally thought, making this more of a rescue than another kidnapping.

Dylan could be such a fool. How could he stand idly by while the man who maintained and fixed the starship that gave him so much of his power... and supposed friend slowly perished of a broken heart and neglect? Dylan didn’t properly appreciate the gifts given to him. 

Harper was nearly Nietzschean in some of his attitudes but hamstrung by Dylan’s ideals and goals. Tyr had long wondered what he might be capable of if surrounded by the right people as well as resources.

Harper still looked a lot younger while unconscious or asleep. Tyr had carried him over his shoulder in times past but today chose a “bridal carry,” which made him look more like a caring crewmember taking home a younger one who’d overdone it on the Drift than a pervert or killer carrying a minor away. The way Harper snuggled into Tyr’s chest suggested the former too; Harper had always snuggled against or around him when sleeping near him. They’d been nearly friends and maybe something more once, a state of affairs neither of them would have imagined when they first met. Some passersby directed amused smiles his way as they saw him carrying Harper, so he’d achieved what he’d been going for. He could have his hands free in an instant if need be, though the drop might bring Harper back to some low level of consciousness.

Harper felt lighter, too much so.

It had taken time for Tyr to heal and regain his strength, physically and mentally, after the shooting and fall and to regain his alliances and leadership since his coalition of Prides had torn apart in his absence. In these days even the best Prides fell short of their potential, something he intended to remedy. His son deserved nothing less than the best.

Once inside his ship, he gently set Harper down in a bunk on piles of soft blankets, wanting him to be comfortable, and closed a manacle around one of his wrists. Then he scanned Harper for tracking and communication devices and disabled them, being careful not to disable Harper’s dataport hardware at the same time, and took away his gun and tools. He removed Harper’s boots to deprive him of the knives and money hidden inside them. 

Seeing Harper nestled amidst his sheets again made something clench within Tyr’s throat.

He would find a way to convince Harper to work with him, since he had so much more to offer him than the Commonwealth and Dylan did. Respect, for one thing. Vengeance for a second one. It would be a difficult sale, especially after the Dragans had destroyed Earth and further inflamed Harper’s rage at Nietzscheans, but Tyr could be quite persuasive. Besides, he’d noticed rifts in the Andromeda crew during media coverage of their triumph over the Abyss. Whether he succeeded or failed at that, he’d publicly proclaim Harper as his hostage, although Dylan unfortunately didn’t always behave rationally in such situations. Perhaps seeing Dylan behave like an idiot during the hostage negotiations again might help win Harper to Tyr’s side. At the very least, taking something of Dylan’s away from him would hurt his pride. Tyr had avoided most of the Drift’s cameras but deliberately paraded past a few while carrying Harper away, just so Dylan would know and come looking for him. 

He foresaw a lot of arguing with Harper in the near future, but he’d enjoyed that and missed having someone to bicker and banter with. The next few weeks should be interesting indeed.

 

### End


End file.
